eterminedly.]

That they never will; never.

ELLEN.

[Coaxingly.]

Oh! look grandfather at the cross Robbie.

GRANDFATHER.

[Gazing amusedly at Robbie John.]

Indeed, Robbie, you look like them prize fightin' men ye see up in the
town.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Well, there; is that any better.

[He smiles half bitterly.]

ELLEN.

A wee bit. I wish Jennie Graeme seen you with that face. You wouldn't
get your arm round her so easy then; would he Grand-da?

GRANDFATHER.

A bonny wee girl she is, and has a fine farm and land comin' till her.

[Aside.]

Boys a dear but these musicians gets the fine weemin.

ROBBIE JOHN.

There, there; and creamery managers sometimes gets them too, Grand-da.

GRANDFATHER.

Indeed, that Taylor man will get a body can cook sowans anyway.

ELLEN.

[Looking through window.]

Here's mother.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Enters and sits down exhausted on chair
at side of table next door.]

That sows a torment. I just had her out and back she doubles again.
She just has me fair out of wind turnin' her out.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Rising and making toward door into room.]

I can go and have some practisin' now.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Robbie John, I seen the carts comin' up the loanin'. Your father will
be in, in no time. He'll no be pleased to see you han'lin' that,

[pointing to the fiddle.]

just when he comes back.

[Starts up as if suddenly reminded.]

I must go and get them eggs counted.

[Goes out again through door to yard.]

ELLEN.

Aye, Robbie; don't take it. He'll just think you've been playin' that
all the time he was away. And he's always that cross after markets,
you couldn't stand him.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Sitting down again.]

You're right. I don't want another talkin' to like the last one; but
its hard.

[He takes up a stick from fuel beside fireplace
and starts whittling it. The rattle of carts
is heard. Samuel James passes the window and